Last night my friend Justine took me to Blossom, an organic vegan restaurant located on Columbus Avenue between 82nd and 83rd street. Did I mention I'm from Texas and that I love meat? Well...I'd go back again and again because they have the meanest cookie dough milkshake a girl could ever hope to have. And it's made from soy. So you feel healthy even when you finish and you're barely breathing because you didn't come up--not even once--for air.

Justine attracts men like it's her job. I have another friend like this, Victoria. It's hard to go out with either of these girls because when I'm with them, I know the men sure as heck aren't lookin' at me. So last night every waiter in the restaurant nuzzled up close to our table. After one got a bit too close (yes girls, you're right close talkers are right up there with heavy breathers and noisy eaters) she looked at me and quietly said, he's odd. Yeah, he's odd, I agreed. Later in the evening she made some comment about how he was kind of attractive. I cocked my head and gave her my best look of bewilderment.

Why did you say he was hot, then? she asked.

What, I didn't say he was hot.

Yes you did. Earlier, you said he was hot.

Replay in my mind. Stop tape. Brain clicks in.

I said he was odd.

Oh, I thought you said he was hot.

And I thought you said he was odd.

There you have it. She said hot. I said odd. And we both heard what we wanted to.